Happy (22 page)

was ten years old again, waiting for his dad to get home from the restaurant

Happy |
Chris Scully

127

so his mom could report how he’d skipped out on Saturday-morning Greek

school. With each passing minute, his dread would build, until the waiting

became worse than the actual punishment.

After the noisy chaos of the emergency room, the silence was startling

and always took a moment to adjust to. He signed in and cautiously looked

around. Eight private cubicles were clustered around a central nursing

station. Each cubicle held a bed, two chairs, and a shitload of beeping,

blinking medical equipment. The tiny rooms were fronted by sliding glass

doors so that anyone behind the desk could quickly see all patients with a

glance.Peter stood outside his dad’s cubicle and watched him talk with Father

Theo. The black-robed priest had been a frequent visitor these past few days.

Without his perpetual Greek captain’s hat, Kosta seemed so vulnerable.

His normally robust frame appeared almost shrunken in the bed. The

gruff, imposing father who had inspired such fear was gone. Here was a

mortal man. Wires ran out from beneath his blue hospital gown and into

nearby machines. Peter watched the blips on the screen, reassured by their

steady rhythm. Kosta looked old and drawn, but his skin no longer had that

unhealthy gray cast.

Only one visitor at a time was allowed in the room, so Peter found

a seat and waited until Father Theo was done. When he emerged, he

greeted Peter warmly. “I’m glad you’re here. Your mother asked that I

speak with you.”

Peter stiffened. He should have known she wouldn’t let it go, that

she’d send the priest to do her dirty work. He was suddenly furious with her.

He drew up, ready for the attack. “I know what you’re going to say, but—”

Father Theo held up a hand to cut him off. “Your mother is

understandably upset. But how can I tell you not to love when love is His

greatest gift?

“There are some—no doubt many—who would tell me I am wrong,

my own church among them, but I cannot in good conscience preach to

you what I do not believe myself. Only you know what is in your heart,

Panagiotis
. But you should be true to it. Lies and deception, no matter how

well intentioned, are what breed evil. They can only inflict pain,” the priest

continued with a small smile. “And that is what I have counseled your

mother. It’s what I have counseled others. But change takes time, eh? We

will see if your mother listens to her own heart.”

Happy |
Chris Scully

128

Peter was speechless, his throat clogged with emotion as he struggled

not to cry. The remaining weight on his chest seemed to lift. Father Theo

gave his arm a comforting pat and then departed.

When he had himself under control again, Peter ventured into his

father’s room. He forced a smile to his lips as he entered. “Hi, Pop. How are

you feeling?”

“This place…. The food is terrible.” Kosta’s voice sounded weak and

thin, not the booming baritone he was used to. “How they expect a man

to get healthy on that slop, I don’t know. I asked your mother to bring me

some
kleftiko
.” This was so like the man he remembered, Peter didn’t know

whether to laugh or cry. His pop would be okay.

“Don’t even think about it, Mr. Georgiou,” the nurse warned gently,

as she brushed past on her way to read one of the many monitors. “Do you

want to end up right back in here?”

“Doctors, meh,” he said with a wink as she departed. “What do

they know?”

Peter ventured another step farther into the room. “Quite a lot, it

turns out.”

His father cleared his throat. It sounded like the engine of their old

Cadillac turning over. “Are you going to stand all the way over there? I

am too tired to shout,” he grumbled, switching to Greek. When Peter still

hesitated, he added, “Your mother is praying in the chapel. It will take her

a while.”

His throat tight, Peter drew up a chair near the bed and sat down.

“Have they said when you can go home?”

“A few days. Apparently it is no big deal to cut a man open these days.”

He sighed. “But the doctors say no more work for me. For good this time.”

“But what about the restaurant?”

“We will sell it.”

“Sell it?” Peter repeated. “You can’t sell it. You love that place. It’s

everything you worked for.”

“I worked for my
family
,
Panagiotis
. Maybe I forget that. Maybe I

wasn’t so good at showing it.” When he sighed, his breath rattled alarmingly

in his lungs. His eyes grew glassy, and for a second Peter thought his tough

and fearless dad was on the verge of tears. “I don’t want to be an old man

sitting on the porch. But my time is past. And as you say, things are changing.

Business is not so good.”

Happy |
Chris Scully

129

Peter gulped. It was unthinkable that the place he’d grown up in, the

place he’d spent so many hours in, would be gone. Another overpriced

coffee shop, maybe? As much as it had always seemed a chain around his

ankle, it was still home. He hadn’t known how much it truly mattered until

now. “I’m sorry, Pop.”

“For what? What do you have to be sorry for?”

“For letting you down. For not being what you wanted me to be.”

“When have you let me down? Did I ever say that?”

“You didn’t need to.” To his horror the tears Peter had struggled to

hold back began coursing down his cheek. He hung his head.

His father made a choked sound. “It is I who should be apologizing.”

“You?”

“Yes. I am sorry we made you so unhappy, Peter.”

He blew out a breath. “You didn’t, Pop. I think I made myself unhappy.”

Silence filled the small room. After a few minutes, Kosta spoke again.

“Do you remember your
papou
, my father?” Peter had vague memories of

an older man, but since Pop was always working and they rarely went back

to Greece, he knew very little about his relatives. “He was a fisherman in

our village. From a young age I learned from him, worked beside him on

the boats. It was his wish that I follow in his path. And when I grew older,

what did I do? I took a wife and came here. Why? Because I did not wish

to be a fisherman.

“Now, I have done to you what my father did to me. I am not proud of

that. I did not treat you like a man. I have talked with your mother, and as

soon as I am well enough, we will sell the restaurant and take a trip home.

You will live your own life, not ours.”

Peter’s heart wrenched. Not only was he losing the restaurant, he was

losing his family too. “You’re leaving?”

“Not for good. For a few months only.”

“And Ma is okay with this?”

“She is not happy, but maybe when we come back… things will be

different?” One white bushy eyebrow arched in silent question.

It took Peter a second to realize he was referring to Louie. “Oh. Ma

talked to you.”

Kosta nodded. Sweat beaded Peter’s forehead. They were giving him

an out. He could go back to the way things were. Everything would be

forgotten and never spoken of again.

Happy |
Chris Scully

130

Except he didn’t want to go back.

It hit him then.
This
was his choice. And it wasn’t nearly as difficult

as he had feared.

“They
will
be different,” he asserted. “
I’m
different. But I’m not

giving him up, Pop.” Peter sat up straighter, putting all the confidence he’d

felt earlier into his words. “Not if he still wants me. I… I care about him. A

lot. I’m happy with him.”

Bold words. But he still couldn’t quite meet his father’s silent stare.

He gave a start when Kosta grasped his hand. He couldn’t remember the last

time his father had ever touched him, not as a child and certainly not as a

grown man. “Your mother is a good woman. So we will go back to Greece

for a while and maybe she will grow accustomed to this other thing….”

Peter gaped, unable to believe what he was hearing. His pop was on

his side?

So it wasn’t complete acceptance, but it was a start and far more than

he’d hoped for.

“Don’t sell the restaurant,” he blurted. Even though the idea was still

forming in his head, he knew in his gut what he wanted to do. It felt right.

“Give me a year to run it—and then we can decide.”

“You are sure? You want this?”

“I want this. But it has to be
my
way this time. No interference.”

His father’s drawn face filled with pleasure. His eyes shone with tears.

But Peter could see how much this visit was tiring him out. He stood. “You

need to rest. We can talk about this later, when you’re feeling better.”

“You’ll return later?”

Peter gripped his hand tight. “Yeah, Pop. I’ll be back.”

FOURTEEN

“Peter. What are you doing here?” Louie still couldn’t quite process the

fact Peter was at his door, even though he’d been the one to buzz him in to

the building only minutes earlier. His heart slammed against his rib cage so

hard he thought Peter had to hear it.

“I’m making you dinner,” he replied as he boldly stepped into the

apartment and headed straight for the kitchen. He set down two canvas

grocery bags on the counter and withdrew a large casserole dish from one.

“Well, actually it’s already made—I just need to heat it up. You haven’t

eaten yet, have you?”

It took Louie a second to respond. He’d thought he’d never see

Peter again and, after moping around his new apartment for a couple of

days, come to the conclusion it was for the best. He’d had a whole list of

reasons at the time, but somehow they all escaped him now. “I’ve only

got in from work.”

Peter turned and fiddled with one of the many knobs on the stove Louie

had yet to use. He’d lived on takeout this past week; in fact he generally

avoided spending much time in the kitchen because it reminded him too

much of Peter’s enthusiastic response when they’d toured the place.

It was the same in the bathroom; under the luxurious rain shower, he

envisioned Peter there with him, which in turn led to thoughts of all the

things they could do in a shower that big.

How was it possible to become so attached to someone so quickly?

“How did you know I wouldn’t have company?” he challenged as he

took a step closer and surreptitiously slid the stack of takeout menus off the

counter and into the top drawer.

Peter flashed a grin. “I took a chance. Here. Open the wine.” He pulled

a bottle from his bag and handed it to Louie.

Wine. Yes! He needed that.

Louie grabbed the wineglasses and corkscrew—he’d located those

on the first night—as Peter tucked the casserole dish into the oven. His

earlier jitters began to fade, replaced by hot indignation. Was Peter seriously

Happy |
Chris Scully

132

going to pretend nothing had changed? As if he hadn’t lied and deceived

and broken Louie’s heart?

Screw that. He wasn’t going to be a pushover again. “What are you

doing here?” he asked again, this time with a little more force.

Guilt blanketed Peter’s features. “I see you got moved in okay.”

Louie blinked at the change of topic. “Yeah, I—there wasn’t much.

Demetra helped out.”

“I’m sorry—I promised to help and let you down.” He rubbed the top

of his head self-consciously. “I’m sorry for a lot of things.”

“Peter, I can’t—”

“Hey, Zelda’s happy to see me,” Peter exclaimed as Zelda came to

investigate and wound in and out between his legs, rubbing her cheek on

his pant leg in welcome.

“She’s happy to see anyone who pays her attention.”

Peter crouched to pet her, and Zelda immediately flopped down and rolled

onto her back, purring up a storm. Princess Zelda was right. She’d ignored

Louie all week as punishment for being packed in the carrier during the move,

and now she threw herself at the first person to walk through his door.

Louie sighed. Peter clearly wasn’t going to leave, so he might as well

relax. “Aren’t you working tonight?” he asked.

“I promoted Annie to assistant manager—at least until she goes back

to school—so I have time to run back and forth to the hospital. She’s got

things covered.”

“Oh.” Louie sipped his wine. “Demetra says your dad is doing better.”

“He is. They moved him out of intensive care, and he’ll be able to

come home next week.”

“That’s great.”

Peter’s hand stilled on Zelda’s belly. “Demetra and I talked.”

“I know.”

“Looks like I’m officially single again. Have you met Andre yet?”

“Sort of. It wasn’t under the best circumstances.”

“He sounds like a saint.”

“Well, he’d have to be, wouldn’t he? To put up with Demetra? I mean

no offense to your ex-girlfriend.”

Peter grinned up at him. He gave Zelda a final rub, and rose to his feet.

Louie couldn’t take it anymore. “Seriously, why are you here?” he burst out.

“I thought I made myself clear at the hospital.”